


Bedridden

by FearfulKitten, TruthfulDaydreamer



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [11]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Batbrothers (DCU), Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Broken Bones, Brotherly Bonding, Damian Wayne tries to be supportive, Dick Grayson is a good older brother, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Protective Dick Grayson, Tim Drake Needs Help, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake bases his worth on what he can do as a vigilante and it shows, broken leg, broken ribs, injury - no blood, typical vigilante injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearfulKitten/pseuds/FearfulKitten, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthfulDaydreamer/pseuds/TruthfulDaydreamer
Summary: Tim has been stuck in bed for over a month and it’s driving him up the wall, he feels like the family is pushing him away....All he wanted was a coffee.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852759
Comments: 6
Kudos: 264





	Bedridden

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is @TruthfulDaydreamer's first work here on AO3, so make sure to give them some love on the comments, because this work wouldn't even exist if they hadn't given me the idea. Thank you for clicking this, hope you enjoy <3

It’s been a little over a month. One whole month of laying in bed, not being able to do anything by himself other than change the channels on TV. Tim felt awful, he felt powerless. His broken leg was annoying, and his broken ribs made breathing difficult, not to mention the pneumonia he’d only just recovered from. Sleeping wasn’t easy either, seeing as he had to be kept in an upright position at all times so that the bones would heal properly. He had gotten a brand new scar on his neck, and looking at that in the mirror was still hard. But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

The worst part, the real humiliating part, was needing help for every little thing. He hated not being able to walk properly, hated not being able to do what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, by himself.

He hated having to ask for help to go to the bathroom.

And above all, he hated needing help to bathe.

It was humiliating, having someone standing next to him and helping him clean himself, rubbing the parts he couldn’t reach because his ribs wouldn’t let him twist that way. He felt vulnerable and exposed. He thanked the heavens that Dick was so willing to help, because the few times Alfred had to cover for his older brother had been really awkward. And that’s not even mentioning that one time with Bruce.

And then there’s the pity. Everyone’s been giving him those ”understanding” looks, those soft eyes, trying not to share details from their cases, not mentioning their vigilante personas around him, turning off the news whenever he’s around, asking if he needs anything, all the time... Alfred has been cooking his favorite meals every other day, and even Damian was being nice to him. Damian, the demonspawn who would always criticize his every single move was being  _ nice _ .

That was what really scared the crap out of him, it made him feel like he might never be able to be Red Robin ever again. It was as if they all knew it too, wanting to make him comfortable with being pushed away from that part of their lives, as if they were easing him back into being a civilian.

Tim sighs, wincing at the pain that spreads through his chest, and rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease his constant headache. It’s due time for him to try and do something by himself.

Slowly, he pushes himself out of bed, ignoring the pain in his ribs and the banging inside his cranium, reaching for the pair of crutches resting against the wall. He had never used them, but it couldn’t be so hard, right? He had taught himself how to jump between rooftops so he could take photos of Batman and Robin when he was just a little kid, so this should be easy enough. He manages to reach his door, having only a little trouble opening it. Wonky and slow, Tim eventually makes it to the edge of the marble staircase.

“Alright.” He murmurs to himself, looking down at the huge amount of steps in front of him “You’ve got this. You can do it. Nothing stands between Tim and a hot cup of coffee.”

His trip down the stairs takes a lot of effort and he has to take breaks every few steps, waiting for the pain to diminish so he could keep going. He’s sweating from the effort, meaning that he’d probably need a shower sooner than he wanted to, but he couldn’t take off his hoodie, afraid of losing his balance and falling down the stairs.

“Okay, five more steps Tim.” He tries to sound confident “C’mon, five more steps.”

First the crutches. Then his feet.

One step.

Once again the crutches, and then his feet.

Two steps.

The crutches. His feet.

Three steps.

The crutches slip and fall away. Tim slides down the two remaining steps, falling butt first into the ground. The impact makes pain shoot up to his broken ribs, making him cry out from the pain, tears filling his eyes and quickly running down his cheeks, the cry morphing into sobs as he holds the side of his body.

Tim hears someone coming towards him, two pairs of rushed footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Tim?” Dick calls, worried “What are you doing out of bed? What happened, are you okay?”

“I-I fell.” Tim answers, hiding his face “I-I lost my balance and... and I fell... Fuck, it hurts so much, Dick.” He cried.

“I know, I know. But I’m here now, it’s okay.” Dick answers, cupping his brother’s cheek “C’mon, let’s get you back upstairs to bed, okay?”

“N-no.” His words coming out shaky because of his stupid sobs. Tim tried again. “No, I was- I want- I just need to get t-to the kitchen, I need to-”

“Timmy, it’s okay.” Dick said, pushing some of Tim’s hair behind his ear “We’ll get you whatever you wanted.” Damian, the second pair of footsteps, nodded behind him.

“No! You don’t get it!” Tim yelled, tears still streaming down his face “I need to-! I can make it! I can! I-I know I can...!” Once again, Tim hides his face in his hands, sobbing loudly, pain pulsating down his sides.

“Tim…?” Dick has that worried puppy look on his face.

“I-I know that y-you don’t think I can g-go back to being vigilante again.” He sniffles “I- I just wa-wanted to show that I’m n-not in such b-bad shape. I-I’m not useless!”

“Oh, baby bird...” Dick said, running a hand through his brother’s hair “No one thinks that. I promise, Tim, no one thinks that you’re useless.”

“We have all had our injuries, Drake.” Damian said, crouching next to him.

“Yeah,” Dick smiles at him as he speaks “We all know that you’ll bounce back. You just need to rest.” Tim sobbs once again, burying his face on his older brother’s neck as the man kept gently running a hand through his hair “Let me help you back into your room, okay? And Dami can get whatever you wanted from the kitchen for you.” Dick whispered, and Tim nods, face still hidden.

“I- I don’t need anything.” He said, voice muffled. The words tickled Dick’s neck, and he had to put a lot of effort in not to jerk his shoulder up at the feeling “I just wanted to make myself some coffee, but... there’s no point now.”

“Would you like some tea instead?” Damian offered “Mother sends me special blends on occasion. Some of them have healing properties.” Tim looked at the kid, who was speaking in a tender tone “I could brew you some.”

“I...” Tim’s eyes filled with tears once again as he nodded “I’d like that. Thank you, Damian.”

“You’re welcome.” He answers, getting up, headed for the kitchen.

Tim starts crying again, tears falling heavily as his brother helped him to his room. Every sob, every sudden and shaky rise and fall of his chest shot a new wave of pain through his ribcage, which in turn worsened his yelps and groans. Dick tried calming him several times, to no avail. It had been so long since he cried, Tim was surprised that he still knows how.

“Thanks.” Tim mumbles, as Dick sets him down on the side of his bed.

“Don’t mention it, Timmy.” Dick smiles softly but genuinely.

“Y-you know...” He tries to steady his breathing, wanting to speak “Yo-you’re the only one... the only one w-who doesn’t smile at me like... like I’m on my deathbed.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dick sits down next to him, making the mattress dip towards him.

“I me-mean...” He rolls his eyes at his stutter, taking a deep, annoyed breath “I mean, everyone k-keeps looking at me like I’m...” He breathes again “Like I’ve got some kind of terminal disease. Like I’ll die tomorrow, or the day after that, or maybe in a week, but they look at me like I’m about to die. It sucks, and it hurts so fucking much.” He clenches his fist.

“They’re just trying to be nice Tim, no one thinks you’re going to die.” Dick said, a hand behind his brother’s head. Tim knows that if his ribs weren’t broken they’d be on his back, providing support, but right now, Dick is too afraid to even touch his torso. That makes him grind his teeth together.

“Take your hand off me.” He says through gritted teeth “Please.”

“Okay.” Dick whispers, pulling it back.

“Put it on my back.”

“Tim...”

“Put. It. On. My. Back.” He tries to sound serious and sober, but his voice cracks and the tears gather in his eyes.

“Tim, I don’t want to hurt you.” Dick says.

“That’s the problem!” He yells, wishing he could throw or break something “That’s the fucking problem, Dick! I can’t... I can’t live like this! I’m not... Some delicate thing, I’m not going to break! I’m not... I’m Red fucking Robin! a-and I... I can’t lose that.” He covers his face again, sobbing into his hands “It’s-... I can’t lose that... Please, Dick. I cant… I can’t lose it.”

He feels the mattress moving as Dick stands up, and for a moment Tim thinks that his brother is leaving him. Thinks that he will have to deal with his loss by himself. Instead, he feels his hands on his knees, rubbing circles on his exposed skin.

“Tim,” He starts, softly “Timmy, Look at me.” He does, peeking behind his fingers “Why are you afraid of losing Red Robin?”

“B-Because...” Tim wanted to say everything.

He wanted to tell Dick that the pity and the silence meant the bats were trying to ease him back into a normal, civilian life. That Alfred cooking his favorite meals all the time was clearly some kind of twisted consolation prize. That constantly needing help to perform even the most basic tasks showed everyone just how unfit he is for the mantle. That he felt humiliated for needing help whenever he had to take a goddamn piss, and that if that didn’t show just how unfit he was to be part of this family of vigilantes, then he wasn’t sure of what would.

But none of that came out. What came out instead, was a result of Tim’s sudden realization, after his racing thoughts eased their monologue.

“Because I’m weak.” More tears forced their way out as he admitted it “and you all finally saw it.”

“No.”

Tim’s breathing was shaky as he lowered his hands, revealing his face little by little, trembling chin.

“No.” Dick repeated, stronger this time, more determined. “Tim, you are so many things. Smart? Yes. Brave? Definitely. Loyal? 100%. Chaotic? Completely.” He smirked weakly, Tim chuckled just a little “But you’ve never been weak.”

“I’m not strong either.” He shot back, staring at the floor.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Just look at me!” He opens his arms “I’m pathetic! I can’t even use the bathroom by myself.” Dick had one eyebrow raised in a weird, skeptic and confused scowl. It annoyed him. “What?”

“So you think I’m weak?” He starts, Tim just frowns in confusion. “And you think that Jason’s weak? Steph and Cass? Oh, let’s not forget Babs, and Bruce? What about Duke and Damian, do they fit your description of weakness too?”

“What... What are you talking about?”

Dick huffed out a tiny laugh.

“Tim, you do realize that all of us, no exception, have been in the same situation before, right?” Tim stares at him, confused “Don’t you remember when I got my shit rocked so badly that I was in a coma for like, a week?”

“Nine days, actually.” Tim murmured “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, what about when Jason broke both of his legs after falling from that building? You do remember that, right?” Tim nodded slowly “And you do remember how he needed help to move around for two and a half months? And what about that time when Bruce was shot in the thigh and had to use a cane for three weeks?”

“Well, that’s not really comparable to-”

“You may think it isn’t because you weren’t seeing it all the time,” Dick cut him off “but I also had to help him to the toilet during the first week. And help him shower in the first few days.” Dick took a deep breath and let out a soft sigh. “Look, what I’m trying to say is; there isn’t a single masked hero out there who hasn’t been bedridden for a while, at least, not a single human one. And guess what you are, buddy?”

“Human?” Tim bit the inside of his cheek.

“yeah, human.” Dick nodded. “Baby bird, trust me,” He said, smiling at him again “You’re gonna fly again. Yeah, someone may have clipped your wings, but feathers grow back, I swear they do. No one thinks you’re dying, we’re trying to give you space and time to heal.”

“Yeah, well,” Tim sniffled, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie “Maybe I don’t need  _ that _ much space.”

Dick smiled, right side of his mouth raising as he huffed out a little laugh again.

“Noted.” he said with a smile. “Hey, do you need help out of that hoodie?” He asked “You’re sweaty.”

“Yeah,” Tim nodded “Yeah, I could use some help with that... please”

As Dick helped him out of the constrictive, overly hot jacket, Damian knocked on the door, not waiting for a response before opening it. He skillfully balanced the platter containing a mug of tea and some biscuits on one hand, setting it down on his brother’s nightstand.

“You know,” Tim said as Dick attempted to carefully fold the hoodie and Damian sat down on the floor, in front of him “You can still tease me if you want to. I’m not used to not being constantly criticized by you.”

“-tt-.” Damian rolls his eyes “How can I criticize you when you haven’t done anything at all in the past month?”

“Damian!” Dick whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, that’s what I was talking about.” Tim snickered, reaching for the mug. The warm tea was comforting, even if he was feeling a little hot, and the biscuits were perfectly made, surely by Alfred’s well versed hands “Do you guys want any?”

“No thank you.” Damian says.

“I’m fine.” Dick smiles at him, deciding that his effort to fold Tim’s hoodie was useless as he tossed into his laundry bin, too sweaty to be reused.

“Are you...” Damian paused, biting the inside of his cheek “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah.” Tim answers, tapping on his mug as Dick sits back down next to him “Dick gives great pep talks.”

“It’s a gift.” His older brother jokes, getting a small smile from both Tim and Damian.

They sit quietly as Tim finishes sipping his tea, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. It’s that rare kind of silence that Tim loves, the kind of silence that isn’t forced or demanding to be filled with empty words. It’s a silence that transmits tranquility and reassures him that his brother’s love for him hasn’t faltered these last months and will never fade, no matter what.

As he takes his final sip, Tim stares at the bottom of his mug.

“Hey, uh,” He whispers “I think that after my adventures I... I might need to shower.” He looks up at Dick, biting the inside of his lips “Can you... help me?”

“Of course I can.” Dick smiles, warm and big.

“I shall take these back to the kitchen then.” Damian stands up, takes the mug from Tim’s hand and the tray from his nightstand, then disappears into the hallway.

“I hope he’s not upset that I’m stealing you from him.” Tim says.

“What? No.” Dick frowns a little “I was just watching him do his homework, but I think he’d prefer doing that on his own. C’mon, let me help you to the bathroom.”

“Hey Dick? thanks.” Tim says as Dick helps him to his feet “I don’t think I‘ve been saying that enough.”

“Oh, please.” Dick dismissed him “It’s not like you have to thank me. I’m your older brother after all.”

“Yeah, I know, but... this isn’t really something you have to do.” Tim shrugs.

“What, did you think I’d just force you to get Alfred? Or - god forbid - Bruce?” Dick snorts “I’m not heartless. Besides, I was a Robin through my teenage years, I know how awkward this kind of thing can be.” Dick says as he helps Tim sit down in the bathroom.

“I guess.” Tim laughs a little “Still, you didn’t have to do this, but you are, so thank you. A million times, thank you.”

Dick kisses the top of his head.

“You’re adorable Timmy.” He smiles “And don’t mention it. I’m here for you. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! I hope you liked this. If you did, you can follow us on tumblr! @fearfulkittenwrites (or @fearful-kitten01, for my personal blog) and @3ambird. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this!  
> Lots of love, stay safe and healthy out there guys!! <3


End file.
